Bill looked at the place for a moment, and his trained eye saw marks of combat still upon the walls and shelves, which showed in spite of the new arrangements made.
"Seen a friend ob mine, a sailor man?" asked the mate, peering into the door.
"No see no ones—heap workee, velly busy," replied Wah Lee.
Bahama Bill entered and stuck forth his big, ugly head right close to the Chinaman's.
"You tell me where Cap'n Smart went after cleaning yo' place up, yo' heah?" he said menacingly.
The memory of the fracas was heavy upon Wah Lee. He backed away and drew his big, blue-barrelled gun.
"You getee 'way velly quick—see?" he said fiercely.
Bahama Bill reached over like lightning and grasped a Chinaman by the slack of his pigtail, jerking him in front of himself, and seizing him with his left hand, to keep him in place. An iron lay handy, and instantly it was sailing straight for the head of the belligerent Lee.
It caught him full in the neck, propelled with the power of the giant mate's arm, and the Chinaman spun clear across the room, landing limp and insensible.
The big gun failed to explode, and went clattering upon the floor. Instantly Bill sprang for it, and seized its barrel just as a powerful heathen grabbed it by the stock. The mate wrenched it free with a quick jerk, and struck the fellow twice upon the top of his shaved head. Then the whole crowd piled upon him, swarmed up against him, grasping, clinging, gripping for his throat, while a hatchetman made a pass with his weapon, which reached the black man's skull.